


Smut Prompts In Space

by rinskiroo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time Together, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kinktober 2017, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Suggestive Flirting, Threesome - F/F/M, these nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:58:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinskiroo/pseuds/rinskiroo
Summary: Kinktober 2017 prompts.  Sleepy sex, public sex, (Force) bonds, "cross-dressing," lingerie, role reversal, threesome, smiles/laughter, and first time together.  Some fluff, one with angst, lots of sexy times.





	1. Sleepy Sex

Theron’s surprised to see her still in the bed in the early hours of the morning, just before dawn. Usually, she’s gone by now, off doing only the Force knows what. He grins and untangles the sheet between them, moving to invade her space.

She’s quietly sleeping on her stomach, her face away from him—slow, even breaths going in and out. Even after his lips find the curve of her shoulder and his hand travels down the length of her bare back, she’s still out. His lips move across her skin—from her shoulder to the place under the cone of her ear that he knows she likes, across her lekku, onto the back of her neck. His tongue darts out as he sucks on her skin, tasting salt from the night before. She had told him they were well-matched, though she might have meant in other ways other than their insatiable thirst for each other.

He squeezes her hip and grinds his stiff cock against her leg--practically growls when she hasn’t even moved. No cant of her hips or stutter in her breathing; she doesn’t twist so he can grab her breasts or turn her head to kiss him.

His hand squeezes her hip again and then moves to cup her ass, squeezing before moving on. He wedges his hand between her thighs, rubbing against her warm skin, dancing dangerous close to the place he desperately wants to be. It doesn’t matter that it’s only been a handful of hours since he’s been there—that he’s there every night—he needs her again.

When his fingers first graze across the folds of her sex, he grins against the back of her neck. Theron feels quite pleased with himself as her wetness coats the finger he slides inside of her.

“Are you awake yet?” he asks.

Still, no response. No hums, no moans. She sleeps, or pretends to sleep. It would be inappropriate for her to use the Force to maintain her Jedi stoicism for this. And she would _never_ use the Force inappropriately. He smirks at the thought.

A second finger joins, pushing inside of her and rubbing as far as he can reach. Finally, finally, there’s a change. She gasps and lets out a long breath. Her hips shift only slightly and her legs just barely open wider, but it’s enough to release some of the pressure on his wrist. Again, he smiles to himself and gives her a few more slow strokes before he pulls his hand away.

There’s a disappointed groan muffled by the pillow.

He shifts over and behind her as he gently coaxes her legs apart. As he settles against her back, his cock twitches, so close to her wet heat. He’s still kissing her, as much as he can, his lips pull at the skin of her back, her neck, her lekku.

“Lift up for me,” he murmurs. His hand slips under her and he groans as her hips wiggle upwards and she presses against him. Her name is on his lips when he pushes into her, slowly at first because he wants to listen to her moan and whimper even as she lays there with her eyes closed, still feigning sleep.

He snaps his hips forward, pushing her back down into the bed, and then lifts her back into him. He does it over and over until he’s sure she’s awake because she’s reaching back to grab onto him. Her fingers are in his hair, pulling on the short strands. Now that she’s helping, moving her hips to meet his sharp thrusts, he moves his hand and squeezes one of her breasts.

“Oh, Theron.” The first word she utters that morning is his name. It’s soft, but needy. Her pleasured cries are still muffled against the pillow as she keeps one hand holding onto him and the other—

The other moves under her and starts rubbing at her clit. Theron swears and continues driving into her, about to lose control. “You want it, Jas, you—” he groans, almost forgetting how to make words.

“ _Yes_. Theron.”

He nearly screams his release, coming deep inside of her. He swears again as he pushes his face into her back. She’s still rocking against him, her fingers working furiously at her clit until he can feel her pussy clench around his cock, still twitching with aftershocks. He pinches her nipple and finds the energy to rock with her as she comes until her limbs go slack.

Theron rolls off of her and is about to fall back asleep when he feels her lips against his.

“Good morning,” he mumbles.

“If that’s how you plan on waking me up, maybe I’ll sleep in more often.”


	2. Public Sex

“Put all of the ones with the red label over on the left side of the hangar. No—the left. Jax! Your other left!” Theron sighs and looks back down at his datapad with a shake of his head. All the recruits with average or above intelligence went to the labs with Oggurobb or were put under Aygo’s command. Everyone that’s left does the menial tasks such as moving supplies—which is important work that desperately needed to be done—but Theron isn’t thrilled to be the one overseeing it.

“Psst.” Theron looks up at the soft noise he isn’t even sure he heard. He swats at his ear, as what he swears is a bug buzzes past his head. Then, he sees it, the little blue hand waving from behind a tree.

Theron jogs across the grass, away from the hum of the machinery moving the crates and the bustle of workers. He’s grabbed suddenly, and yanked behind the large tree. She’s like one of the displacer beasts out in the forests—on him before he even realizes she’s there. His back is pressed up against the rough, hard bark of the tree and she has a cheeky grin on her lips as she holds him in place.

“Hey there.” He chuckles and gives her a quick peck on the top of her head. “It’s good to see you, but there’s a lot to do today.”

She peeks around the tree and watches the workers beyond for a minute before looking back at him. “Seems awfully stressful for a task that doesn’t even involve getting shot at.”

“It’s a different kind of stress. It’s a little better than getting shot at. Or stabbed.”

Jas leans forward and presses her lips softly to his. He smiles and returns the modest kiss. “I don’t like seeing you so worked up.”

“It feels like my default setting these days. Hey—what—”

“Shh.” She tries to quiet his shock at the fact that her hand is now rubbing him through his trousers. He thoughts weren’t even taking that course, but now—now the blood is rushing in that direction. She looks up at him, giving him the half-lidded, erotic sort of look he’d only seen in porn holos. Her lips start at his jaw and travel down his throat, gentle and slow, in no great hurry. All the while, her hand continues to palm his growing cock with lazy, but firm strokes.

“As good as this is, there are about—a hundred people working—like really close by.”

“You’re very bad at counting, Agent Shan,” she hums in amusement against his throat.

Theron’s head falls back and he closes his eyes, feeling her soft lips on his skin and her hands that know just how to make him feel good. His teeth sink into his lip when she snaps the clip on his gun belt and his blasters hit the ground with a loud thud—at least, it sounds quite loud in his ears. He hears the zip of the fly on his trousers and gasps when her hand begins searching inside. “Twenty people isn’t a hundred, but—” He really doesn’t fancy the idea of getting caught with his pants down around his ankles, but more importantly, he doesn’t want anyone to think any less of their Commander.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He no longer feels the warm breath on his skin, but he can feel the cool Odessen air wafting against his now exposed nether regions. It sends tingles up his spine. When he opens his eyes, heat fills his body in thundering waves at the sight of her on her knees, his erect cock in her hand, stroking up and down.

Theron swallows hard—and loud, everything is so loud. His eyes cut around the area in front of them—just trees, rocks, some bugs. It’s a fairly large tree they’re hiding behind. Jas seems satisfied that it obscures them enough. He can leave his implant receiver on and scan for any comm chatter looking for him.

“Theron?”

He looks down at her and sees her violet eyes so full of desire—for him. He also sees down into her loose fitting tunic and the curves of her exquisite breasts. His fingers twitch with the need to touch them. Instead, he places his hand on her head and gently pushes her towards him.

She smiles, her tongue darting out to lick her lips and something inside of him aches terribly as she moves in closer. She kisses along his shaft, tongue occasionally flicking against the skin. He groans low in his throat as her lips make their way to the sensitive head. Her hand squeezes and her tongue wipes over the slit, licking up the drops of precum before encircling him with her lips.

Theron’s fingers press against the back of her head. Desperately, he fights the urge to just buck into her mouth. He can feel her hum in her throat, almost like a giggle. It’s driving him crazy.

“Jas…baby…” he says her name in a quiet plea as her tongue dances across his head, still just barely in her mouth.

One hand grips the back of his thigh, bracing herself, as she takes him further in. The tip slides against the roof of her mouth as her tongue strokes the underside of his cock. Her other hand twists aside his boxers and rubs his balls.

Theron bites his lip to keep from crying out as she starts moving back and forth, her lips in a tight circle around him. His hands rub against her lekku, urging her to keep going. He’s so close when he hits the back of her throat and her nose brushes against his hair.

But she pulls back and his cock leaves her mouth with a pop. Her fingers are quick and deft—and skilled—as she manages to tuck his rock hard length back inside of his trousers and zips him back up. She quickly kisses him on the lips before she’s gone, like a damn Force ghost.

“Shan! There you are!” Admiral Aygo jogs up, slightly out of breath. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing over here?”

Theron shakes his head and tries to lose the heavy look of lust he must have. He looks out into the forest again to see if he can spot that blue minx, but she’s no where. “Just taking a break.” He bends over with a wince to pick up his blasters and fits them back around his waist.

“You okay there? You’re walking funny.”

“Charley horse. I’ll take care of it real good later.” He hopes that even if he can’t see her, she can hear him.

The Admiral cocks his head at Theron, confusion on his furry Bothan face. “Whatever you say, Agent Shan. Now, let’s talk about how your recruits just spilled fifty warheads on the bay floor.”


	3. (Force) Bonds

Sometimes, she comes to him in his sleep, when his defenses are down the most. It’s wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time. Before, he called her a ghost or a memory, but now… Now, she’s alive, somewhere. He lets his walls down while he’s awake, hopes that his visions of her somehow really are her reaching out and not just his mind haunting him with her image. He hopes that she’ll find him, tell him how to find her.

It never works out how he hopes. He has dreams that are obvious dreams—they’re on Coruscant or Tython and no one is wearing pants. Ewoks are riding unicycles. His father is dressed in a tauntaun suit trying to give him a hug. Theron decides he should cut back on the energy drinks and have tea instead.

With a sigh, he shuts down his console and tells the droid to recharge for the night. He shucks off his clothes and flops into the small cot in the corner of his small, one-room flat. He feels closer to her here on Zakuul than he did in Republic space. He wonders if he truly feels her, or its just a placebo as he knows she’s somewhere on this massive planet.

His hand slips under the waistband of his shorts—he wants to think of her as he falls asleep. His Twi’lek Jedi with her soft, sky blue skin and the way it turns to a shade of purple when she blushes. She’d blush when he’d whisper dirty things into her ear while he teased her nipples, pushed her legs apart traced his fingers across the wet heat aching for him. She’d blush when he’d make her tell him just what she wanted, because he loved to hear that she wanted him. That she needed him.

A grunt leaves his throat as he jerks back and forth on his cock.

There’s a soft sigh somewhere in the room. His hand stills as one eye cracks open to scan the dark room.

 _Don’t stop._ It’s a whisper in the warm recycled air and he knows that voice keenly.

“Jas…” he moans out her name as his eyes drift shut and his fist grips around himself again.

A weight settles next to him, but he doesn’t dare look. She’s not there, not really, but if he doesn’t open his eyes, perhaps the illusion will stay in place. He feels her breath on his cheek and soft lips playing against the stubble on his jaw. Her hand rubs across his chest and down his stomach. Theron’s hand is pumping in purposeful strokes—he’s doing it for her now, not just for himself.

“I want to touch you,” he groans.

_Soon, my love._

Theron knows it won’t be soon, but he pushes that negative thought away and focuses on her here now. He can’t access the Force, but he uses what he knows to try and keep the connection open, to try and keep her here as long as he can.

He feels her warm hand wrap around his; it feels real and whole. She moves with him, their hands wrenching back and forth together. Her lips move down his throat, leaving a path of sucking kisses. She pauses against his chest, her tongue darting out to lick and tease his nipple.

He moans again and grips his cock with both hands as hers moves to massage his balls. “I’m—I’m…”

_I know. I can feel it. Come for me, Theron._

He has to bite his lip not to cry out as the orgasm takes him. Ribbons of warm, slick fluid streak across his stomach and his hips fall back onto the thin mattress. Jas is smiling against his skin and whispering about how good he is.

“You felt that?” he asks quietly.

She just hums in an approving way and her head moves in a nod against his shoulder. He swears he can feel her blushing.

Theron takes the chance and opens his eyes just a bit, not bothering with the enhancements from his cybernetics. In the darkness, there’s an outline of her curled up next to him. She’s not quite all there, but not a ghost either. He shifts and grips her face, kissing her fiercely.

In that moment, he feels her hopelessness. To her, he’s as incorporeal as she is to him. But she loves him, misses him, the way he loves and misses her. She just doesn’t know he’s really out here, really looking.

“I’m going to find you, Jas,” he says and he hopes she can feel how committed he is. “Can you tell me where you are?”

She smiles and rests her head against his. _Right now, I’m here._


	4. "Cross-Dressing"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this doesn't fit the actual kink. They're swapping outfits, just not gender-coded clothes. (I have a different idea for role-reversal.) There's also no actual smut, so I'm failing this one on multiple levels. I am also ignoring that pretending to be a Jedi could potentially be triggering for Theron! I'm just now realizing how awful this entire entry is. I'm so sorry.

Even if it’s a terrible, terrible plan, Theron would have to thank Koth for the idea. Traveling outside Odessen is dangerous with the Eternal Fleet still patrolling the galaxy—for the pair of them especially. But supplies still need to be gathered, and potential allies recruited.

Theron adjusts his cumbersome sleeves as he leans up against the wall of the cantina, watching Jas as she stands at the bar, waiting for their contact. Apparently, the descriptors the Skytroopers were given barely amounted to their species and clothing: a Twi’lek Jedi and a human male typically scene in a red jacket. Koth’s _brilliant_ idea was to have Theron wear the baggy, brown Jedi robe and Jas wear— Well, it isn’t _exactly_ his outfit.

The black trousers she’s wearing are exceptionally tight, accentuating every curve of her ass and legs. His jacket wouldn’t do either; it’s too large for her (and would greatly hinder the view he’s enjoying). Instead, they found her another red jacket to fit her feminine frame. Though, it is his gun belt hanging lazily off one side of her hips with the thin, leather strings tied around her thighs, holding the holsters in place. She swirls her glass and takes another drink, switching her weight from one foot to the other.

He thinks he she got a much better deal in the wardrobe department. He feels both like he’s wearing a tent and completely naked without his usual weapons. There’s a vibroknife tucked into his belt at his back, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to get at it quickly. And the lightsaber dangling off his belt is going to be zero help. Their plan, if things get hairy, is he’s just going to hit people on the head with it.

Jas glances back at him and he can see her eyes dart up and down over him.  She makes a show of it because she knows he's been groping her with his eyes the entire time. And then she winks. Saucy brat. She probably finds all this terribly amusing.

Finally, after another hour of waiting, and Jas having to turn down drink offers from several interested parties (Theron only had a couple of old women asking him to bless their lothcat), their contact arrives. It’s a quick transaction and within minutes she’s brushing past him as she heads out the door.

He finds her waiting in the alley beside the cantina, grinning to herself as she bites her bottom lip. “That was easy.”

“If you were my contact, I’d hand over all my secrets.” He steps in close to her. There’s something about the way his blasters are hugging her thighs that lights a fire in him and makes her hard to resist. “I both want to peel you out of those pants and never let you take them off.”

Color rises to her cheeks as she slips her arms around his waist inside the robe. “Mmm, I don’t have that problem. I can do things to you without taking off this robe.”

His pulse jumps as the clasp on the belt clicks and he feels the weight come off his waist, but quickly settles back to normal as she shoves it into his hand. He watches as her fingers carefully undo the buckles at her thighs and clicks off the belt from around her waist. She smirks at him as her arms again encircle him and fit the gun belt back to its original owner. She even bends slightly and adjusts the strips of leather around his legs, securing the holsters in place. Her hands linger on his thighs for an extra enticing second and “accidentally” graze his crotch as she stands back up.

“You’ll have to show me,” he says, his voice husky with the lust he’s been trying to contain all afternoon.

Her smirk doesn’t waver. In fact, with the way her eyes continue to drag over him and how her tongue runs over her teeth, clearly she thinks she has the upper hand. She takes the belt he’s holding and secures it back around her own waist. “Why kind of spy would I be if I divulged all my secrets, _Master_ Theron?”

“That’s a good point.” He moves even closer to her, crowds into her space.  He’s getting tired of the game, annoyed with her self-satisfied little smirk and that he’s the one hot and bothered and chasing her around. His face hovers near hers, his breath wafts across her skin—he’s close enough for their lips to touch, but he doesn’t give her that. He lifts one finger and drags it slowly down her throat, down across the expanse of skin exposed by her low-cut shirt. It curls against the curve of her breast only slightly, before dragging between them and moving further downward. “I’ll just have to offer something in trade.”

She gasps when his hand disappears behind her and that menacing finger drags between her ass cheeks, perfectly moulded by those delicious trousers. “I think we can come to an arrangement.”

It’s Theron’s turn to smirk as he hums deep in his throat. He squeezes her bottom and pulls her to him, but once again he’s impeded by his costume. There’s friction when he tries to grind against her, but not the kind he wants.  There are too many layers and he can't get close enough to her. “Back to the ship.”

She doesn’t protest, not that he would have given her he chance to.


	5. Lingerie

Theron’s not sure what he expected when he drops by her Coruscant apartment late in the evening. Perhaps she’d be in her Jedi robes after a long day speaking with Senators and other Masters, or maybe comfortable lounge pants and a tight little tank top as she winds down—but not this. He’s anticipated a quiet dinner and maybe a movie or huttball game on the holo, but it’s clear Jas has other plans.

The door to the front hall slides open and she’s standing in high heels and a tight-fitting, short, and very sheer black dress. There’s lace almost tastefully obscuring her dark nipples, but he can see everything else. He quickly steps in and lets the door shut behind him before any of her neighbors can get an eyeful.

“Is this your usual at-home wear?” Somehow, he finds his voice, but she just smiles and he notices she’s done up her face as well. Eyes, lips—all set up for her seductive game. She doesn’t need to, she’s his sexy minx even in the baggy brown robes of the Jedi. But he appreciates her initiative. From the way she blows him a kiss as she turns and walks away, he can tell she knows he likes it.

He watches her hips sway as she walks away—her round ass flexing back and forth as she moves. Noticing that he’s still frozen at the door, she turns just before the bedroom and extends a finger towards him. It just takes one curl of her knuckles to pull him out of the stupor and send him lumbering down the hall. Theron tosses his jacket over a chair and shucks his shirt off on the way to the room. He leaves his boots in the hall and quickly drops his trousers to the floor. As he steps out of them, he strokes his cock with his hand, already thick with anticipation.

Jas is lounging in the bed, her hand rubbing the spot next to her, beckoning him to join her. The lights are muted in the room, with most of it coming from the city outside the window. He can still see her clearly and the hem of her see-through dress creeping up around her hip.

“You need to let me take care of that,” she says, her voice heavy with desire. It makes him weak and he feels like he needs to crawl all the way to her.

His feet manage the several steps to her bed and he lays in the spot she has saved for him. “Anything you want, beautiful,” he mumbles as he buries his face in her neck, pulling her soft skin between his lips.

“I want you inside me,” she whispers, the want dripping from her words—and from other places. He can feel the heat of her against his leg.

Theron shifts his weight and moves over her; her knees fall apart, welcoming him home. As he kisses her, long and slow, his fingers bunch up in the sheer fabric and pull it the rest of the way over her hips. He doesn’t take it off—he relishes in the feeling of the silky mesh between them and the way it makes her look so fuckably hot.

The tip of his cock rubs against her wet folds, making her whimper and moan. Her hips lift up under him, coaxing him to press inside. His head drops down to nuzzle her breasts through the lace as he slowly pushes inside her. He bites his lip and digs his fingers into her hip as the wet heat envelopes him.

“Oh, Theron,” she sighs. Her fingers thread into his hair and she drags his head back up for another fervent kiss.

He tries not to go too slowly. He wants to savor it, but he knows she’ll get impatient. Her wants to give her what she wants, but what he wants is to draw it out for as long as he can. So he squeezes her hip, nibbles on her neck, mouths at her breasts—all the things he knows she likes as he slides in and out, back and forth.

She lets him, for as long as she can. He knows what she wants when her hips jerk up because he’s hit that sensitive spot gently too many times. She needs more, and she tells him—whispers encouragements into his ear, telling him how good he feels, begging him for more.

Theron sits up slightly and braces his arms on either side of her. He pulls back and slams back into her with a grunt, enjoying as her face twists in ecstasy. He does it again and again, until it’s a nonstop stream of louder and louder moans. She wraps her legs around him and he had forgotten she was still wearing those high heels until they’re digging into his back. It’s a delicious mixture of sharp pain and pleasure that propels him forward.

He swears loudly and continues driving into her until she’s writhing as she comes, her hips stuttering and her words incoherent.

“Come on, baby,” she murmurs as the intensity of her orgasm fades. “I could do it again for you.”

Theron groans as his head drops to her chest. His hips continue thrusting a few more seconds until he spills into her; her name on his lips. He feels her hand between them, rubbing in frantic circles on her clit until he can feel her pussy clenching around him again as she shudders beneath him.

He collapses on top of her, hardly able to move. She kisses his throat, his jaw, all the way up to his hair. She tells him again how good he was and he squeezes his arms around her.

“Did I tell you how hot you looked tonight?” he asks, drunk on the post-orgasmic high.

She smiles, just for him. “I think so.”


	6. Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Odessen cantina scene with Outlander!Theron.

“He’s not coming,” Jas says as she pushes the glass from one hand to the other on the bar.

“He’s been through an ordeal. You can hardly blame him,” Lana says, like she’s trying to convince her friend that it’s not her Theron’s been avoiding. That he didn’t completely brush her off as soon as she landed at the shiny new base they’d built for him.

Jas shakes her head as she tries to stamp down the disappointment. “You said brain damage was possible, right? That he might not even remember…. Parts of his life.”

“From what I’ve seen, he’s in full—” Lana stops as the subject of their conversation walks down the steps into the cantina. “Look who it is. We weren’t sure you’d attend.”

“What? Miss my own party?” Theron grins and for a second, he catches her eye, and then quickly glances away. He shakes hands with Koth and a couple others that pass by to say hello.

Jas leans over the bar and grabs a bottle. “You gonna drink with us, or what? I picked up this case of Corellian ales myself.” She has it gripped in her fingers, holding it close so that he’d have to step up next to her to get it. If he wants it.

He looks at her again, this time a bit more thoughtfully. It reminds her how he looked at her when they first met—sizing her up, wondering if all the stories were true. He steps close like she wants and takes the cold bottle slick with condensation from her hand. “I was hoping we could have a chat. Maybe catch up?”

“Of course.” Jas nods and tries to ignore Koth giving her a thumbs up and Lana’s half-smirk. Koth had been insufferable once he realized what Jas’ true stake in Theron’s rescue had been. She leads him back to a private room where they can talk quietly, without the obnoxious commentary of their friends. It’s been five years so she tries to temper her expectations. Her hands dig into her pockets to try and resist the urge to reach out and throw herself onto him.

“What happened with the Jedi? I didn’t think you’d ever leave,” he asks. He means it in the best possible way, of course. Not with the insinuation that he didn’t think she’d ever leave for him, though that creeps through her mind.

“We fought for as long as we could. There’s hardly any of us left now. I brought as many as I could with me to the Alliance, but some chose to stay in exile.”

“I hear Saresh instilled a puppet Chancellor? Piece of work, that woman.”

Jas nods, but she doesn’t want to talk politics. Talking about Saresh is guaranteed to make Theron aggravated, and she’d rather find a more pleasant topic. What she really wants is to pick up where they left off—if he even remembers what that was. Not just the encounters where they’d lost their clothes, but the ones where he’d laugh at the jokes she didn’t get and laying out under the stars. “Lana told me she filled you in on most of it. I want you to know, I’ll do anything I can to keep you safe.”

His lip curls up slightly and his eyes catch the light in a way that reminds her of a different time and place. It’s a look she remembers well, and it’s usually followed by— “So you’re going to take care of me? Make sure I have everything I need?”

A tingling sensation starts at the base of her neck, runs all they way down her spine, and pools low in her pelvis. The way the innuendo just slips off his tongue makes five years seem like it was both yesterday and twice as long. She wants him to know how hard she looked for him, how much she wanted to be there when he woke up. How, after all this time, she still loves him.

“You know I’m not big on destiny,” she says as heat starts churning through her veins. “But all of this, everything that’s happened—feels a lot like it was meant to be.”

He’s kept a respectable distance so far, casually leaning to the side as they talk. Now, he steps towards her, leaving his unopened bottle of ale on the table. Theron takes her hand in his and, stars, she wants to bury herself in his chest. She wants to kiss him everywhere she can see skin, run her fingers through his hair, drown in his scent because it’s been _five years_ and she’s at the end of her self-control.

“If you mean being here with you, I agree.” He looks down at her hand in his; his fingers run across hers in lazy strokes. “I wasn’t sure—for me it’s only been a few months since I’ve seen you, but for you…”

As his words trail off, leaving out that he doesn’t think she could have possibly waited so long, her other hand reaches up and holds his cheek, making him look at her. She didn’t know what to say—what words could convey how much she had missed him and how Lana wouldn’t let her go to Zakuul because they both know she would have burned everything to the ground to find him. So she kisses him. Her hand moves to the back of his head and holds him as she presses into his mouth.

It’s an old song they both know the words to. His arm wraps around her and pulls her in closer while his lips open and they nearly trip over the table as she tries to push him back towards the couch. He chuckles when she suggests breathlessly that they should lock the door. She blushes when he tells her he did it as soon as he walked in.

Jas pushes him down onto the couch and stands in front of him. She shrugs off her jacket and lets it fall to the floor, then pulls her shirt over her head. She straddles his lap and kisses him again, making him groan as she grinds her hips down onto him. He kisses her throat, her chest—his fingers fumble with the clasp on her bra until the bothersome piece of clothing is gone, tossed to the floor with the rest.

She can’t contain the shudder the first time his lips wrap around her nipple. His tongue twirls around it; his hand is palming her other breast, squeezing and pinching. She gasps and moans into his hair, her hips continuing to shamelessly try and find relief for the ache between her legs. Even though they’re both still in their trousers, every time her pussy finds friction with the bulge in his pants, it sends shock waves through her limbs.

“Are you wet for me, baby?” He pauses sucking on her tit long enough to speak, then moves his mouth to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.

“Damnit, Theron,” she groans. He smiles against her skin at the familiar phrase. His hips cant slightly to the side and his cock, straining against his trousers, brushes her in a way that sends sparks to her vision and makes her pussy clench.

His fingers dig into her hips and hold her in place as she comes quietly. Just a quiet moan in the back of her throat and her arms wrapping around his head as his tongue continues teasing her stiff nipple. She sighs into his hair, embarrassed. Like she’s some blushing virgin who ruined her panties just because a boy touched her. Theron kisses his way back up to her lips, his hands running up and down her back.

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothes, like he can tell she didn’t want to do it so soon, but couldn’t help that it’s been five years since she’s had an orgasm by anything other than her own hand. “I’m gonna make you do it again. And again.”


	7. Threesome

For the life of her, Lana can’t figure out how she’s ended up in this situation. They were working late—well, _she_ was working. Theron and Jasati had been giving each other lewd looks from across their datapads all evening. And she knows the Jedi had purposely let her intercept some rather vivid imaginings. A couple of damn ash-rabbits, both of them.

Somehow, they’re back in her room, the one just down the hall. They’re all missing various pieces of clothing and Theron and Jas are both taking turns kissing her. There had been admissions of attraction and affection, and then three sets of anxious feet making their way over the threshold of her quarters.

Kissing Jasati is everything Lana expected her to be—she’s warm and eager. Her hands grip into Lana’s hair and her lips don’t stay in one place. They drift across her jaw and suck at her throat; her hands wander from her hair and all over her body, exploring and squeezing.

Theron’s kisses are surprisingly firm and passionate, and after a few splendid seconds of their tongues sliding against each other, she wonders why she’s surprised. He pulls her in close, with fingers pressing into her skin.

There’s an addictive quality to the both of them and suddenly she understands the constant disappearing acts.

They’ve made it to the bed. Her perfectly folded and tucked sheets and blankets become wrinkled and disheveled with the three bodies squirming around. There’s a trail of the rest of the clothes leading there—Jas’ doing. She made sure with her roaming hands to pull every stitch from each one of them.

Jas settles in next to her, fondling her breasts. Lana lets out a small gasp as she watches her soft, pink nipple disappear behind blue lips. Theron’s kneeling next to her and captures her lips with his again while his hand drifts across her body, groping at her breasts with Jas’, and then leaves. By the way Jas sighs, warm breath buffeting across her now hard nipple, Lana can only guess that Theron’s hand is on her somewhere.

Lana learns that they’re both a couple of teases. The way the both of them drag their hands across her stomach and down her thighs, never quite dipping close enough to relieve the ache between her legs. When her hips tilt to try and meet one of them, she catches them grinning at each other and their hands wander elsewhere.

Jas kisses her again, and says in a smooth whisper, “Just let us take care of you, Lana.”

“If I left everything to you two, nothing would get done,” Lana says in the exasperated voice she often finds herself using with them. But they like it, she knows they do. She twists her body towards Jas, her hand reaching between them and finding the warm, wet place between her legs. Lana presses her mouth to Jas’ again and takes in the shuddering breath she exhales. Her fingers stroke along the folds and she smiles as the tables have turned and Jas is arching against her hand as she presses a finger inside.

Theron’s behind her, kissing along her back and holds her hips as he grinds his hard cock against her bottom. Jas is reaching over her to grab at Theron, to try and have both of her partners in her grasp. They’re a mess of groping hands and straying lips—Lana wiggles away from Theron’s grasp and kisses her way down Jas’ body. Her tongue replaces her fingers, diving in and lapping up the sweet ambrosia. Jas whines both of their names as her hips rise off the mattress and her legs open wider. She whines again when Theron pulls Lana’s head back and plunges his tongue into her mouth.

“Baby, you taste so good,” Theron says, his voice throaty and rough. It sends a tremor all the way down to her still wet and needy cunt. Lana can tell his voice and his filthy words have done the same to the woman beneath her as she rolls her hips, begging for more.

Lana returns to the lovely desert in front of her, her fingers holding her open so she can lick deeper inside. As Jas moans her pleasure, Theron kisses his way down Lana’s back and settles behind her. She can feel him run the head of his cock along her ass, teasing against her slit. He presses quickly inside of her with a grunt and Lana can barely swallow back the cry with her face still buried in Jas’ pussy.

“Oh, baby, she’s so tight,” Theron says.

His voice, the vulgar words and pitch, and the way it makes their Commander mewl and writhe is hotter than it has any right to be. Jas’ hands are in her hair, urging her back because she’s so close, but Theron pumping in and out of her is delightfully distracting. She groans against the wet skin and wraps her lips around Jas’ mound, her tongue darting out and flicking the swollen nub.

“Yes, Lana, yes,” Jas says in gasping moans, holding her head firmly in place.

Maybe it’s the Force, the connection the three of them share, or maybe just the thrill of the three of them together, finally—Jas’ climax starts the chain reaction. She comes hard—her thighs pressing against Lana’s face, her fingers pulling at her hair, her ravished cries filling the room. Theron’s saying encouraging words, telling her how good she is and that it’s Lana’s turn, but he’s mostly drowned out.

His finger finds Lana’s clit and presses against it as he continues to drive into her until she shouts a string of nonsense muffled by the body she’s pressed against. Another jerk of Theron’s hips and he’s falling with them. Warm fluid dribbles down her legs, and she knows it’s going to further mess up her perfect sheets.

Jas is practically a boneless puddle beneath her and Theron rolls off to the side, breathing heavily. Despite the sudden exhaustion, they pull Lana up between them and wrap their legs and arms around her, spooning her from both sides.

“I hope you two are pleased with yourselves,” Lana says after a moment, once they’re all breathing normally again.

Jas just nods her head against Lana’s shoulder and Lana knows she’s probably grinning to herself and flushed purple.

“If you need to write up a report, give out some pointers for next time. I think I’d actually read that one.”

Lana smirks at Theron’s cheeky response. “I’ll hold you to that.”


	8. Smiles & Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the fluffiest, most teeth-rotting nonsense I think I've ever written. I hope you all get cavities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fluffiest, most teeth-rotting nonsense I think I've ever written. I hope you all get cavities.

The first time he had said it, he really thought it’d be the only time. In the moment, on the cusp of their final push for the throne, Theron didn’t know if they’d all make it to the other side. He’ll do anything to protect her, throw his own life away if it came to that, and he had to make sure she knew how he felt just in case.

_I love you, too, Theron. Always._ It had been a promise that they wouldn’t fail. She kissed him and smiled, finding a small bit of happiness amidst some of the most dangerous moments of their lives.

Now that it’s out there in the open, he can’t put it back in the box. He tells her while they laying in bed, before and after every mission, at the end of any unofficial communiques. Once he’d even said it absently at the end of a command meeting which garnered several amused grins and chuckles.

And now, as they lounge on the couch, enjoying a lazy morning where neither one of them had to plan or execute a battle, meet a clandestine contact, or decrypt mountains of data—well, Theron is still decrypting data. He finds it relaxing. Jas is reading a novel on her datapad; she’s burned through four already in two days. Making up for lost time. She’s laying back with her head on the armrest, her lekku draped behind her; her legs are propped in his lap. They’ve both been a pair of bums, barely even getting dressed—he’s in loose-fitting grey sweatpants and no shirt while she’s in a pair of tiny pajama shorts and a tank top that’s managed to bunch up under her breasts and leave her midriff exposed.

“Hey.” He runs his hand along her leg and pulls her attention from what she’s reading. “I love you.”

The datapad drops slightly and she smiles at him. “I love you, too.” And then it’s back in front of her face, and she’s absorbed in whatever is on the screen.

Theron sets his datapad on the floor and runs both his hands back up her legs causing her to wiggle slightly. Whether in annoyance or enjoyment, he can’t quite tell. His head dips down and he kisses her knee. “What are you reading?”

“ _The Five Suns of Pat Ken Di._ ”

“Sounds boring.” His fingers curl under her knee and drag lightly against her skin making her jerk reflexively. He can hear her trying to swallow back the giggle.

“It’s not—what are you doing? AH!” The datapad tumbles from her fingers as she jolts forward to try and stop his tickling fingers from assaulting the backs of her knees. He chuckles and keeps her pinned in his grip as she flails around laughing and gasping. “Theron!”

He pauses for a second, but still keeps a firm grip on her—won’t let her wiggle free. He kisses her thigh and runs a hand upwards, until he’s dragging the back of his finger nail just under her shorts. “That’s some weakness you got there, Jedi.”

Jas is flushed and gasping for breath as the laughter subsides. She shakes her head at him. “That’s a dirty trick, Agent Shan.”

“Part of the job description.” He kisses her just above the apex of her thighs, inhaling her intoxicating scent through the thin clothing. He glances up at her to see her still smiling at him. Her hands reach down and rake through his hair. She loves him. He can see it clear as day on her face.

Theron sighs and rests his head on her soft stomach.

“Theron!” she yelps his name again and squeals as his fingers again pinch the backs of her knees.

“Okay, I’ll stop,” he concedes with a laugh. He shifts on the couch and kisses her stomach before resting his head on her breasts. “Still love me?”

“Despite the difficulty you bring into my life, yes.”

“Me? Difficult? No one’s ever called me that before.” He noses the edge of her shirt over and kisses the top of her breast. He sucks gently on her skin, though the tantalizing nipple is still tucked away. He kisses and nuzzles it anyway through her shirt until its hard and tenting the fabric.

“I find that hard to believe.” She hums softly in her chest, her hands running down his back and over his sides. He grins when one sneaks under his pants and squeezes his ass.

It makes him laugh when she stiffens at his hand going under her knee again. “No more, I promise,” he murmurs against her skin, and smiles as she lets him settle in between her legs as well has he can on the couch. He moves up slightly, because he needs to kiss her, and rub his stiffening prick against her sweet spot. Another laugh escapes her while he’s kissing and grinding against her.

“What’s funny now?” he asks.

“Nothing—you—how much I love you.” She smiles and kisses him again, and Theron thanks this absurd galaxy that pushed them together.

He barely notices her fingers dragging up along his ribs until her short fingernails dig in slightly and he jerks to the side. “Hey!”

Jas giggles and does it again.

Theron nearly falls off of her. He’s not laughing, but his face hurts from trying to hold it in. He wonders how she’s done it—he’s not ticklish. He’s not! He sits up and points an accusing finger at her. “You… now who plays dirty?”

“I never…” She gets to her feet and pulls the shirt over her head and wiggles out her shorts, letting the few items of clothes she had on fall to the floor. Eagerly, he follows her lead and pushes his sweatpants off as much as he can before she straddles his lap. “…play dirty.”

He groans and bites his lip as she wraps her fingers around his cock and holds him next to her. He can feel the wet heat barely grazing his sensitive skin. “You’re right. You’re sweet, and kind, and gentle, and none of the books you read are boring.”

“Stop talking, now,” she says as she presses her forehead against his and slowly slides herself onto him.

Theron just nods and clasps his hands on her face and kisses her.

There’s no more tickling—nothing to disrupt the steady rhythm they’re building. They use their hands for other things—caressing, squeezing, pinching. Jas is still smiling at him when she pulls away from his lips, and he can’t help but smile back.

“You see all the best parts of me, Theron,” she says, though her words come out strained, gasping as she rocks faster against him.

In his thoughts, he agrees, as he watches her hips arch against him and the slight bounce of her breasts as she moves. He agrees with her meaning, too. He pulls her back in close and kisses her again. She gasps against his mouth as his hips jerk up with movements; he keeps going as her arms squeeze around his neck.

He watches her as she comes—the way her head drifts to the side and her mouth opens in pleasure. She squeezes him again, as if she can’t get close enough, though they’re the closest two people can be. She’s pulsing around him, her limbs shudder as she rides the high. With a few more intent thrusts, he grunts loudly as he spills inside of her.

Her grip looses and she kisses him again, lazily this time. Weak and spent, she doesn’t even bother moving off of him.

“I love you,” she says quietly as her head rests on his shoulder. “Always.”

“I love you, too.”


	9. First Time Together

_Come find me when you_ _’re done here.  We can continue that…. discussion we started before the fight._

The skin on her hip still tingles where he’d placed his hand when he’d said those words to her, low enough so only she could hear.  He’d tugged her close when they thought no one was looking and quietly breathed how thankful he was they both made in through the fight with Revan alive.

Has it really been almost a year since they met?  How is it that she still anticipates his calls with the eagerness of a child?  How just the smallest of touches still sends electricity through her nerves and disappointment when he lets go.  And how did it ever take them so long to just kiss?  And a desperate sort of kiss at that, before the great battle, where the fate of the galaxy hung in the balance and either one of them could have died.

Jas isn’t a virgin; there are lovers in her past, but none of them stirred the sorts of feelings she has for Theron Shan.  Just the anticipation of feeling his touch again is almost enough to make her spontaneously combust.  Beyond the physical, how he makes her blush and smile, what she desires most is his happiness and safety.  She wants to know his favorite book so she could understand how he thinks; his favorite piece of music to understand the how he feels; his favorite food so she can make it for him; his favorite game so she can learn it.  She knows that if ever there were a moment he needs something, she will drop everything and rush to him.

She has given up that she will ever be the perfect model of a Jedi they want from her; thinks that she is.  Jas loves Theron.  More than the sun and the stars, more than her precious Code and the family of her Order.  More than she has ever, or will ever, love another living person.  It’s terrifying, and exhilarating.

Theron is working, still, when she finds him.  Datapad in hand as he paces around a slab of cracked permacreet in front of a shuttle the Republic has left behind.  Most of their troops have cleared out—the forest world returning to a much quieter state.

“Did you hear?”  He turns and smiles at her approach.  “I got my job back.”

She pulls the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and returns the smile.  Selfishly, she had hoped maybe his time with the SIS was over and she could recruit him to her crew.  They could have chased down the Emperor together and she would always be able to keep him safe.  A pipe dream—the SIS is who he is, what he wants; she can’t take that away from him.

“They’re lucky to have you back.”

“Hard to believe it’s over,”  he says as he finally sets the datapad down on a yet-to-be-picked-up crate.  “Revan, the conspiracy, the temporary truce with the Empire…  You were amazing.”

Jas sighs and ducks her head slightly.  She takes a few tentative steps towards him as she shakes her head.  “I didn’t do it alone, Theron.  I had _a lot_ of help.  If you hadn’t been here, we never would have even known about a conspiracy until it was too late.”

“I didn’t say you did it alone.”  He smiles and moves to meet her until they’re standing right in front of each other.  “You just did most of the heavy lifting.”

“Lightsabers aren’t _that_ heavy,”  she says with a cheeky grin as his arms slip inside of her robe and encircle her waist.

“Shh…”  He chuckles, his warm breath puffing against her cheek as he ignores all concepts of personal space.  “You’re this famous Jedi, but you’re so much more than that.”

Theron pulls back slightly and brushes his fingers across her face and down her lekku, sending a shiver all the way down her spine.  The way he’s looking at her—the intent in his brown eyes, the soft curve of his lips, and how he doesn’t box himself up and hide away from her in the Force.  “You’re beautiful, and kind, and I’m just going to ramble if you don’t stop me.”

Jas smiles, her cheeks practically glowing.  “I don’t think I want to stop you.”

“That isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”  His lips seek hers, softly at first, as if testing if their first kiss had somehow been a fluke.

Her fingers curl into the collar of his jacket and she holds him close.  Her kisses are hungrier than his; lips opening and pulling him in.

A smirk curls his lips and he pulls back slightly.  “Think you can keep up?”

Oh, he has no idea.  The Jedi have long tried to temper her intensity, corral an impudent and headstrong youth.  She is not supposed to indulge her passions so deeply; she is meant to give herself fully to the Force, not a man.  But she gives so much to the galaxy, can’t she have this one thing in return?

Her feet step forward, pushing him back.  Back and back, until the heels of his boots hit the metal ramp of the shuttle.  Her fingers are on his belt, trying to work the clasp apart.

“It’s a little burned out in there,”  he says between kisses.

“Does the hatch close?”

“Yeah, it does,”  he answers, his voice suddenly low and rough.

The only light in the derelict shuttle is the sun streaming through the trees into the front viewport.  It illuminates the dust and pollen swirling around them.  Her robe and his jacket drop to the floor first, then their fingers start working furiously at each other’s buckles.  With an almost embarrassed laugh, they decide they should just undo their own.  As the belts and weapons clank against the durasteel paneling, their bodies crash into each other once more.

Her fingers push up under his shirt, feeling his toned muscles.  Theron isn’t just a number crunching slicer—he’s built for being out there in the field, doing as much of the “heavy lifting” as she is.  As she pushes his shirt upwards, her hands running over his back and shoulders, she realizes she’ll have to stop kissing him again to get it off.  Theron makes the decision for her and breaks away to quickly shed his shirt.  He yanks free the tie of the sash around her waist and hurriedly pulls her baggy tunic over her head.

Theron pauses and takes a moment to absorb the vision before him.  His eyes graze up and down and settle on the swell of her breasts, still trapped firmly in her bra.  When her fingers go to pull it off, he makes a growling noise low in his throat and kisses her fiercely, pushing her towards the wall.

Jas moans into his mouth as her back hits the uneven paneling of the shuttle wall.  For a delicious second, she can feel his swollen member through the fabric of his trousers bump against her own aching parts.  His hips move when his lips do; kissing his way down her throat, sucking none-too-gently against her skin while his lower half grinds against her hip.  He moves again, kissing his way down her chest until he’s eye level with her breasts.  His hands palm them both, squeezing her nipples through the plain beige fabric.  Jas makes a mental note to wear something a bit more tantalizing should they have the fortune of this happening again in the future.  Deft fingers find the front clasp of the bra—once undone, the elastic pulls back quickly, releasing the soft mounds from their prison.

There is a singular, appreciative, hum-like noise from him before his lips wrap around her areola, tongue swirling in teasing circles around her nipple.  Jas grips her fingers into his hair and moans softly.  It’s been so long since anyone has touched her in such a way—every nerve craves attention.  She groans louder when she feels his teeth drag against her skin before pulling away and moving to lavish the same attentions on her other breast.

Her thighs rub involuntarily against each other, trying desperately to get some friction even if it’s just from her own wet panties and the seam of her trousers.  She can feel him smiling against her skin as lowers himself to his knees and kisses his way down her stomach.  He tucks a finger just inside her trousers at her hip, and drags it slowly along her waist until he finds a button.  A press and flick and the obstacle is easily conquered.

She holds her breath as his chin nudges back the flap, his nose and lips nuzzling into her skin.  He kisses just under her navel, sinking lower and lower.  With care, he lifts one foot at a time and pulls her boots off.  His fingers hook again into her trousers at her hips and drag the clothing down—hands running down her legs, cupping and squeezing until her trousers and panties are at her ankles and discarded completely.

Jas gasps and shudders as he breathes against the place where she wants him so desperately.  His hands gently maneuver her knees out, opening her to him.  She thinks she’ll collapse the first time his tongue darts out and licks slowly along the wet folds, but he grips the backs of her thighs and holds her steady.

Theron cranes his neck and stretches his tongue, pushing it into her cunt before swiping a long stripe across her pussy and flicking the tip of his tongue against her clit.  Her fingers curl as much as they can into his short hair—the residue of his hair product sticky on her fingers.  He does it again and again until she’s practically panting and grinding herself down onto his face.

“Do you like that, Jas?”  he asks, nearly as breathless.

She can barely speak, just nods her head as one hand continues gripping into his hair and the other claws into his shoulder.  She’s coiled like a spring, ready to explode; it’s almost too much.  When he presses his lips back to her, her fingers tighten in his hair and she pulls his head back.  Her head is shaking and the words tumble out in a rush.  “No, no—not like this.”

He looks up at her, lips glistening.  The look on his face is confusion mixed with worry—she has to assure him he’s wonderful; that’s not what she meant.  She’s drunk on the desire, nearly incoherent as her grip on him lessens and her head relaxes to the side.

“Kiss me, Theron,”  she whispers and he’s back on his feet, crushing her against him.  She tastes her own heady arousal on him.  It’s a sloppy kiss with too much tongue and teeth knocking together, but she doesn’t care; she just needs him—all of him.  Her fingers fumble with the snaps on his trousers.  Suddenly, she can’t remember how buttons work and she nearly summons up the power of the Force to shatter the offending clasps, but his hands push hers away and the offensive garment is gone seconds later.

He holds her head and presses his lips to her throat; he sucks the place just under the cone of her ear that makes her whimper and claw at him.  “You want to come on my cock, Jas,”  he says, his voice husky with want.  It’s not a question—he’s telling her what she wants; reading her as well as he had the entire time they’d been on Yavin.

“Damnit, Theron.”  She knows she’s blushing furiously.  She should have expected him to have a filthy mouth with the way he’d been slinging innuendos since at least Rishi.  Never expecting how it would both fluster and excite her.  Jas pushes him back, towards where her cloak has spilled out onto the floor.   “Lay down.”

With a grin, he does what he’s told.  Her hand grips around his cock—it’s the first time she’s touched him.  The skin is soft and sensitive and the head is already weeping precum.  Her hand moves up and down, stroking him, getting him ready.  When she gets to the tip, her thumb caresses over the head, making his hips arch towards her as he moans.

It’s a beautiful site, to see him—so strong, brilliant, almost respectable—and she’s got him literally in the palm of her hand.  She wants him, needs him, like she needs oxygen or the Force.  She’s got him in the palm of her hand, but he’s already claimed her, wrapped her up and put her in his pocket.

“Come on, baby,”  he murmurs as his fingers graze across her hips, trying to bring her to what they both crave.

Jas smiles at the affectionate endearment; decides she likes hearing it from him.  She presses his cock against soaking entrance of her body.  They’re both groaning as she slides onto him; Theron swears in a language she doesn’t know and his fingers grip tightly on her hips.  He stretches and fills her so exquisitely, making her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip as she lets out a wanton moan when his hips start to thrust upwards.

“You feel so good, Theron,”  she says, barely audible, but by the way the lust seems to darken his eyes even more and the surge of his hips, she knows he heard her.

They find a rhythm, working in tandem as they have in all their other activities.  The shuttle is a chorus of wet skin slapping together and pleasured moans and cries.  Her movements stutter as she gets close.  She grabs his hand and presses his thumb against her clit as she slides back down again.

“Here, here, _please_ , Theron,”  she begs him.  She helps him, pushing his finger against the sensitive bundle of nerves while his hips continue to drive upwards into her.

“That’s it,”  he coos as her body shudders above him.  “Come for me, baby.”

Her cunt clamps down on him, then gushes in a series of writhing tremors.  She cries out and her fingers dig into his hand and his stomach.  They hold each other in place as she rides the wave.  It’s hit her like a maglev and when he starts moving again, it’s almost too much.  She moans and then her overly sensitive nerves feel him twitch and pulse inside of her.  She moves for him, finishing the ride out for him.  Jas is not surprised to discover he’s a bit quieter than her when he comes—it’s now something intimate that she knows about him.  She’ll have fingerprint shaped bruises on her hips later, she muses, with how tightly he’s holding on.  A little something to remember him by, for a few days at least.

She collapses on top of him, their skin moist and sticky from the humid Yavin jungle and their shared exertion.  Despite the almost uncomfortable warmth, he holds her in close and kisses her forehead.  “Just like I thought.  Good at everything.”

She blushes again and nuzzles into his chest.  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“They’ll be looking for us soon.”

Jas lets out a long huff of air and makes a small whining noise in her throat.  She doesn’t want to go.  They had both gotten what they wanted, but it was over far too quickly.  But the galaxy won’t wait—the hunt for their enemy, Theron’s job back at the SIS, and likely renewed hostilities with the Empire.

“Just… one more minute,”  she says as she finds his lips again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this little exercise in smut! I hope you enjoyed it. If you liked these, [Boycott Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10959015/chapters/24394017) is a Theron/Jas fic with some plot, smut, and angst. I don't post much nsfw stuff on [my tumblr](http://rinskiroo.tumblr.com/), but feel free to drop by. <3


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